Freezing FireBurning Ice
by Iconic Monster
Summary: "Fire and ice. I'm not going to go into the deep, resounding, totally cliche and romanticized notions behind that phrase. Be satisfied to know that it's exhilarating, uncontrolled, and intense." WP/FG Continuation of a once oneshot.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not and never shall own sky high. Its story and characters belong to Disney and others. I'm merely borrowing them for my crappy little story here.

Author Note: this story has been bouncing around in my head for a long time. I've been trying, and failing, to find a good warren/ice girl fic for forever and never seem to be able to find one. I personally hate OC's in this section because people tend to make them uber powerful, silly little emo's, or just plain wrong. I know that FG is technically only slightly canon, but I'm going for authentic here. If I remember correctly, the few shots of her showed a blond, chic dressed girly with a stick up her ass and a tendency for blues. So here you are.

**Warning; this first chapter contains sexual content. If you are uncomfortable with this, I have marked the areas explict detail begins and ends. other chapters will have this same pre-caution. however, it is M for a reason.**

Pairings: Warren/ Freeze Girl A.K.A. – Elizabeth "Lizzie" Frost

Fire and ice. I'm not going to go into the deep, resounding, totally cliche and romanticized notions behind that phrase. Be satisfied to know that it's exhilarating, uncontrolled, and intense. I never thought I'd find something like this so young, not to mention, with him. But I suppose its karma coming back to kick my arse. It is rather pathetic of me to fall in love with my own lies. Because we weren't really together, this whole year had just been one long, drawn out scam and I was the dope who screwed up big time by feeling more than I should for my co-conspirator. But honestly, anyone with two eyes and an appreciation for the male physique can't blame me. Warren Peace was hot, like flush from your toes to your head with just a look from him. Of course, to begin with I was unaffected, my ice mask up and fully sealed. I needed to use him, nothing more. He was dangerous, different, and definitely not in my father's 'plan' or my future. He didn't mind being used, so I used him. It definitely was not part of the plan to feel... well to feel anything for the hothead.

My father told me when I was eleven that he never wanted a daughter; that my brother was all he'd ever wanted or needed and that a daughter was just a disappointment and burden he could never see being worth anything. Told me to my face while he sat at our dining room table casually reading the paper and sipping coffee. I was just a kid so, after he said that I did everything I could to make him love me, notice me, be proud. It was stupid of me but, I dressed the way he'd want, made friends with the children of his colleagues, dated the boy he wanted me to; anything for him.

But it was never enough. I never got the love, recognition, or pride I wanted. I told myself as I got over that, that his love was not necessary, that all I needed was to show him I was worthy of him. So I began functioning under the opinion that I was a Frost, and Frosts had a certain code of conduct when it came to life and mine was to be the perfect daughter. To find the social connections that would benefit the family, to always support my brother, to never bring attention to myself, or out shine my brother.

It's strange to look back on that girl and all the time she spent trying to get the approval of that man. I haven't completely lost her yet, social connections are always good to have, and I have a fabulous sense of style, in a way I'll always have a part o me that understands that my father's attention is something I'll always crave.

Warren was the anomaly in this story. He had burned a place in my life without me even noticing. It started with tutoring I'd had to break down and ask him for. I'd been failing Mad Science and let's face it, who was Warren going to gossip to about the ice queen needing remedial lessons? He was the safe, if not unfortunate, option. I convinced him to tutor me for a small price and swore him to secrecy.

If I'm completely honest, I was a right bitch to him for the first few weeks. Insulting him in every way I could. He gave as well as he got though, so I don't feel too bad for him. It was during one of these verbal assaults that he kissed me. Well, more liked slammed me up against the wall and assaulted my mouth, but we'll go with kiss. Later, when I asked him why he'd done it he said "you looked like you needed It." then he smirked and walked away with him confident saunter.

I hated that saunter and the confidence that he always seemed to posses. I resented his happiness and the ease he had with his own existence. I was gleeful whenever the reality of his parentage was thrown in his face. I saw it as an evening of the playing field.

The next week, during our study session I decided to get back at him and was on about his parents, or some such and not even half way through the nastiest, if not most creative insults I'd ever come up with, he grabbed me and kissed the words from my lips. I was getting used to this way of silencing me, if not anticipating it. He fucked me right there in the living room of his two bedroom apartment while his mum was at work. Not forcefully mind, I was an active participant; but after, I couldn't understand why I'd done it. Finally I decided it was because I was bored and liked the thrill. I asked him why he did it, what did he gain from it. He said, with a particularly viscous smirk, "You looked like you needed it."

This went on for weeks. Whenever I was bored, stressed, or pent-up; I'd go to him. He indulged me by always being available and ready. We weren't dating, we didn't cuddle afterwards, we never spoke about our days, and we never shared sweet nothings. It was a booty call only, and we were both ok with that.

Then, something changed when he saw me dance. It was after school and the gym was empty, or so I'd thought and I hadn't had a chance to practice in a long time. My father didn't approve of ballet, not for the daughter of a Frost. It was one of my first rebellions, starting when I was eight years old and my mother got me private lessons and continued behind my father's back ever since. I'd been dancing the routine for my upcoming audition for a space in the Maxville Ballet. I knew I'd never be able to take the spot, but I wanted to audition, I'm not exactly sure why. At the end of the silent routine, I heard applause. When I looked to the gym entrance, there was Warren, an unreadable expression on his face. I'd expected harsh insults and laughter, but his eyes were serious, if guarded. I glared at him, embarrassed at being seen. I asked him how long he'd been there. He said sense before I'd started the dance. I asked him why he'd let me continue and that I didn't want nor need an audience. He smiled at me, the first real smile I'd seen from him. He stepped close to me and my already labored breath accelerated. He placed a hand on my waist and placed a sweet kiss to my forehead before saying, "you looked like you needed it." I stormed off then and called him a perverted wanker, trying to hide my red face and heightened temperature.

After that, he became a more frequent fixture in my life, we spent more time just hanging out together, actually talking. He was the first person I told about my true feelings for my father and the first since my mother about my love for dancing. I think I noticed the change of our relationship to friendship at my audition. I'd told him about casually, like it didn't matter if he came or not, but as I stood on that stage, I couldn't stop my eyes from searching for him. And when I saw him, standing in the back I let my heart calm and nerves fly away. I floated during that routine; the best I'd ever done. When I was finished and leaving through the back door he was there with his motorcycle and a dozen white roses. I was confused by him, what did he want and what did he think would come from this? I asked him why he even bothered to come after throwing the roses on the ground. He grinned at me, as if my outburst was the reaction he wanted and had been anticipating. He pushed towards me, backing me up to the brick wall of the dance studio. He smirked at my glare and kissed me, deeply and with a passion I craved. He pulled back and turned towards his bike, starting it up and holding his hand out to me before saying, "you looked like you needed it". I felt my heart skip at those words and did something that I knew I shouldn't, I took his hand and sealed my own fate.

Then came the fiasco with Royal Pain, I had never been more frightened for someone in my entire life. I couldn't tell what was going on until it was over and Warren, Stronghold and their group of sidekicks claimed victory. I was so relieve that he was ok that I asked him to dance in front of everyone; even my boyfriend. I still don't know why I did that, maybe it was jealousy over that freshmen hippie, because I couldn't take my eyes off of him in that suit, or because I had to convince myself he was ok and in one piece. Whatever the reason, we danced and he held me close to him, and told me I looked beautiful. I asked him why he would say that and break our rule. He smiled at me, a true smile, and stroked my hair saying, "you looked like you needed it."

That night I went with him a hotel room in the city after the dance. Neither of our parents cared where we were, so we took advantage. I followed him, feeling a strange ball of confusion and anticipation in my stomach. Something was different tonight and what we did and said could change everything. I wasn't sure that was a good thing. But when we got to the room and I stood there with him, saw the look in his chocolate eyes, I was lost.

I stood there I the room trembling like a virgin. Instinctively I powered up when he stepped to me, covering my skin in a layer of ice. He stopped not one foot from me and powered up himself, a layer of red hot fire erupting from his skin. He touched me with his burning hand and I heard a sizzle of melting ice and steam. I felt a tingle on my arm and the sensation was intoxicating. We'd never done anything like this before. Before we had left our powers out it, but tonight all of our beings were bared to the other.

"You love me" he whispered with a cocky grin on his red face, his lips trailed down my neck and the sizzle and tingle of it made me moan. I placed my hands on his head pulling him up to face me; everywhere we touched a sight for intense neural pleasure. I grinned at him seeing the fire in his eyes and meeting it with the ice in mine, "you love me, you pathetic hothead."

He laughed at that the sound causing things low in my stomach to tighten and pulse. "What fools we are huh, redoing the age-old high school romance".

"I hate cliches" I said, smiling slightly at him.

"Then let's do them all to shame".

And with that challenge presented, we rose up to meet it.

**Warning! SMEX!**

His hands caressed every inch of my frozen skin as mine trailed down his back and up his arms. His heat was so fierce I could feel my face heat as the air around us steamed and hissed. Somehow, my dress and his tux were abandoned and we lay there clinging to each other, drowning in icy hot kisses. I lay back, gasping for air as he covered my face in small bites and kisses. Then he made his way down to my chest and took my nipple in his mouth. I moaned at the over powering heat that surrounded me and lower my temperature as he settled between my legs, the weight of him the perfect fit. He continued to torment my breasts as his left hand trailed lower and lower. He circled my belly button, dipping his finger in and out in the most suggestive way.

Then, his hand moved further south and was finally poised before the spot I wanted it to be with all my being. I arched my back as he gave a rather sharp tug on my nipple at the same time he pushed those so terribly hot fingers into me. I moaned wantonly as the heat and feeling of his fingers flooded my mind with pleasure. He soon added two more fingers and upped his pace. I lifted my hips and arched so that he hit that perfect spot. I opened my blue eyes to stare up at him, he was panting a bit in effort, but he smiled and kept his pace steady and just as vigorous as before. I smiled for him, gasping as I felt the end nearing. I widened my eyes to let him know and he expertly began rubbing his thumb over my clit, and with only ten more seconds of the bombardment of pleasure I came with a scream a flash of uncontrolled power, a layer of frost and snow falling all around us.

He grinned at me as I finally stopped shaking from the aftershocks. He pushed a lock of blonde hair behind my ear, his eyes still so intense and passionate. "You look magnificent when you cum," he said, grinning wider, sort very proud of himself.

I smirked back at him before rolling on top of him, pinning him beneath me, his wrists in my hands above his head. I leaned down liking his too warm ear and biting it hard, "Do I now? Well I'm afraid I don't have any recent memories of your own mid-orgasm expressions. I do believe we need to amend that."

He pushed his hips up, a very prominent part of his anatomy grinding into my pelvis, "Oh we should defiantly amend that. It might take all night too, to forever etch it into your memory, you know?"

I grinned at him, leaning down to nuzzle his exposed throat, coating the area with a layer of frost that immediately melted as he moaned. Instead of answering him with words I shimmied down his body a little spreading my legs more before reaching back and grasping his dick in my hand. He moaned as I surrounded the red hot organ with my sub zero finger tips and began to pump him before posing him right below my entrance. With one last grin to him, I sank down unto him. It was magic. The warring between our two powers was ongoing and added more waves of pleasure. I lifted myself up and began the dance that all human beings know and understand. His eyes were bright with fire as I stared down at him, feeling every inch of him sink into me then slowly slide almost all the way out, before the steps began again. After a while it became too much and I slid off of him, rolling onto my back before pulling him on top of me.

He grinned down at me before plunging into me, taking his control back. I gave it to him, in that moment gave him all of me. I left the world of conscious thought and jus t felt. In and out, our breathing synchronized, our hips moving up and down to crash together. His arms cradled my head and the heat from him was met with the cold from me, the sheets and our skin becoming soaked with the steamy air. It didn't matter. Nothing but the feeling of each other did.

I met him thrust for thrust, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten and pulse I gasped his name, staring into dark amber eyes that were squenched as if in pain, his eye fell shut as his face contorted into a grimace and I felt him begin to pulsate in his release. The pulsing of his member pulled me over with him and the tightening in my belly pulsed along with him as wave after wave of ecstasy raced through my system.

**END WARNING**

I caught my breath as I lay there, smiling slightly. My skin was stile at sub zero temperature and his was still red hot, but we were heating/cooling back to normal temperatures. I grinned and rolled over closer to him, not touching.

He grinned at me, kissing my lips lightly before closing his eyes, "I love you"

I grinned a silly grin, "You look like a constipated caveman when you cum."

He opened one eye to glance at me before closing it again, "It's a good thing you like cavemen than isn't it?"

I snorted before laughing out right.

That's how I found myself laying there, cuddling and whispering sweet nothings with the last person I'd ever have imagined. He was the fire to my ice. He burned through my walls and in such a stupid way, I'm almost gagging as I say this; set fire to my heart.

I looked up at him, he was leaning over me, on one elbow, dragging a red hot finger down my arm, melting the ice there 'drawing' on my skin, my belly, thighs and chest had similar designs on them already. He told me he was tattooing me, marking his territory. I just rolled my eyes at him, but it felt too nice to make a big deal about, it wasn't permanent anyway. His eyes were shining as he doodled, a small smile on his lips. I reached up with my other arm and brushed his hair back. He directed that smile at me then and I felt my heart skip a beat. I remembered to breath, and then asked him my biggest question yet.

"Why do you love me?"

His grin grew larger as he moved on top of me, leaning closer. He leaned in next to my ear, nuzzling my neck and licking my iced up ear with a fiery hot tongue before whispering,

"You look like you need it."

I sent I layer of frost at him, my laughter betraying my amusement. I kept laughing until I started crying and then I can't seem to stop.

He wraps him arms around me and just lets me sob like silly ninny. Because I needed it. I had needed to find my own path, I'd needed to feel something beyond the mask I fashioned, I'd needed to have someone to share with, someone to love. And Warren was all of that, and more.

"Because I needed it huh, my aren't we a self sacrificing little do-gooder. If I'd known you were this much of a softy, I'd have spent my time on someone more manly. Perhaps that Stronghold boy? He did seem to posses some more masculine qualities. I'm sure the Hippy won't pose too much of a problem, after all I am a Frost and…"

I never did finish that rant as he proceeded to show me just how masculine he truly was, not that there was ever any doubt. Everything wouldn't be perfect, but at least now, I had hope. Fire and Ice, such a silly combination, but it made for spectacular sex, and truly, what more could a girl ask for.

IM: so I hope you liked it, or at least could make it through to the end. Let me know what you think, give me your honest thoughts, keep writing, or leave it to everyone else? By the by, I based Lizzie of Emma Frost from the x-men, go figure right? Anyway, I see her as a stuck up British-American bint with a good heart. Anyways, R&R. lates


	2. Get the Party Started

Chapter 1- Get the party started

My father told me when I was eleven that he never wanted a daughter; that my brother was all he'd ever wanted or needed and that a daughter was just a disappointment and burden he could never see being worth anything. Told me to my face while he sat at our dining room table casually reading the paper and sipping coffee.

Have you ever had your father, the man you've blindly loved and believed in tell you that you were useless? I'd sat there, in shock for I don't know how many minutes. Long enough that my father had finished his coffee and just left the house before I even was able to blink my eyes and let the first tear fall from my eyes.

That was the first time he decided to tell me the truth about his regard for me. He never censored himself again after that.

"I'm just saying Lizzie, winter break is almost over. At some point you should get out and enjoy yourself."

I scowled at the overbearingly persistent figure of my brother as he once again tried to convince me to go out with him to some party his mates were throwing.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe bringing your sixteen-year-old sister to a college age party would not be appropriate?" I asked, crossing my arms over my silk robe that covered my nightgown. I then turned my attention back to the breakfast I had been pleasantly enjoying before Aaron came barreling into the dining room with his crazy idea for some 'fun'.

Aaron sighed in exasperation, plopping down in the cream covered chair next to mine. The other twelve chairs at the too-large table made the room seem very empty, something I hadn't noticed before he sat next to me. The room was actually rather lovely, beautiful cream drapes framed the large window that streamed bright morning light onto the high ceiling and wooden floor. Ornate panels ran at waist height around the rectangular room that was not interrupted by anything but the door to the kitchen and the large double doors that opened to the foyer. Beautiful paintings of fields of flowers, wooded parks with fountains, and Oceanside paradise adorned the walls. They had been painted by my mother, the only true reminder of her left in the house besides the family portrait that lay in my father's study.

"It might be inappropriate if I actually thought you were capable of being bad, but so far you're just looking like a pansy." Aaron grinned at me, the lopsided smile he knew was my down falling. I might profess a cold exterior to everyone else; and for the most part it was true, but my brother was the exception. An exception he never failed to make use of.

"Come on Liz, I'll be leaving to head back to Stanford in a few days, how am I supposed to do that if I'm so worried about my little sister turning into some shut-in? What if I'm so worried I can't maintain me studies? Think of my poor, poor grades. Do you want them to suffer?"

I couldn't stop the laugh that he forced out of me with his ridiculous pout, his blue eyes; the same as mine, were so wide and earnest.

"Alright fine you wanker, I'll make an appearance at this party, happy?"

He grinned and stood up, "Very. I'll leave you to your breakfast now. Remember, tonight at eleven I'll be whisking you away for the night of your life." He then jogged out of the room, already on the phone with someone else about the 'brilliant' party tonight.

After finishing my breakfast and the half eaten plate being taken away by one the three maids, I headed up the kitchen stairs to the second floor and my room.

The white walls glowed with a light blue as the light streamed through the azure curtains that draped the French doors that lead to my balcony. The white furniture; a canopied bed, dresser, leather couch, desk and vanity, the only items in the room. The room was spotless, not a thing out of place, giving the pure white room the appearance of freshly fallen snow. The only color the curtains, the delicate embroidered snowflakes on the bed spread, and the canvas painting of a small blond haired child and mother that hung on the center of one wall. The room was large, easily more than two 'normal' bedrooms in size. But like most of this house in Maxville's 'elite' district it seemed empty and impersonal to me.

I stepped towards the door along the right wall and entered my walk-in closet heading to the back. I pulled down some thick white tights and a large blue t-shirt that would fall to my knees. Then I bent down and pulled a brown cardboard box from beneath the selves that held my purses. I quickly changed into me workout clothes, tying my mid-back length hair into a messy bun. My fringe was pushed back with an elastic head band and I was ready to go.

I took the box and left my room, heading down the large main staircase then down the next stair case to the basement. The basement was finished meaning it looked as gorgeous and faked as the rest of the house. Taking the first door I entered the house gym. Inside was a large room filled with at least fifteen different machines and a wall of mirrors. The cold stone floor against my bare toes was soothing, the cold revitalizing me and sending a peaceful hum through my body.

I stopped in front of the right side wall and hooked the i-pod I'd brought down with me to the sound system set up there. Then I turned to the space in front of the mirror. I placed the box down to the side and reached inside, pulling out a pair of battered ballerina shoes.

I slipped the shoes on and tied the laces around my ankles as tight as I could stand then experimentally balanced on my toes. The first track began playing, a piano recording of Chopin's _Rondo Op. 1, _and I began my warm ups. I stretched my legs, my arms, rolling the muscles on my body and reminding them of the learned motion I was going to be demanding of them.

**(A/N I am not a dancer. I enjoy watching dance, but my knowledge is vague and I hope I do not offend anyone with any mistakes I make. Most of my description of the dancing will be biased on the emotion and physicality of the movement. Hopefully that will be entertaining and not leave those of us who don't dance going "what the f*ck is a pivot?") **

I tediously went through my warm up ritual for the majority of the ten minute song. Towards the end I began practicing my spins and leaps as the songs crescendo belayed the ending. A light sheen of sweat already covered my body, but my breathing and muscles were still controlled. Then the next track came on and I truly began.

I lost count of the number of songs I danced to, most were classical, but beautiful and endearing to me. Numbers from old recitals, pieces I choreographed for the young girls I sometimes taught, showcases I used to join the upper ranks of the company. All had great meaning to me, some viewed by my mother while she was alive. Then the last song on the track played and I flew into my grand finale.

This Christmas my father was away in China for business, this gave me the chance to be in my dance schools performance of _The Nutcracker. _I got the role of the sugar plum fairy, one of the most coveted roles in the show and the most challenging dance I had ever learnt. We are a small dance company that mostly teach young children and perform locally in Maxville, so the show only went on for one week, but it was exhilarating to be on that stage. And the dancing, the dancing was invigorating.

I began the dance, missing a few steps in the beginning before I found my rhythm. When I did, I was off. I tiptoed around the front of the mirror, leaping across the makeshift stage, twirling so fast yet controlled that I felt invincible. The music flowed through me and resonated with my body as the steps no longer had to cross my mind as I flowed with the song and let it sweep me away. The dance is three minutes long, give or take, but for me it felt like an eternity.

When the last note faded and I completed my final spin, I opened eyes I hadn't noticed I'd closed. Light white flakes slowly fell all around me and my panting breath came out to fog the otherwise warm room. I'd lost control again, unleashing my powers into the moisture in the air. The snow fell down all around me like rain, the drops that leaded on my bare skin freezing even more as soon as they touched me. I was freezing, my body's reaction to a hard workout. My heart rate slowed, my body temperature lowered to about -20 degrees C ( about -4 F), and I could feel a layer of frost on my skin. An exhausted laugh escaped me as I worked to return my body to normal, pulling in my powers until the remaining snowflakes turned to melted drops. I worked my breathing back to normal and felt my body temperature return to normal, 35.6 C (96.5 F) normal for me at least.

I sat down to untie my shoes, my feet aching pleasantly, and put them gently back in the box, my clothes sticking to me, soaked from the impromptu snow. I quickly went through my 'cool down' stretches, then gathered the rest of my things before racing up the stairs and into my room.

That wasn't the first time I'd accidently created a blizzard in the houses gym, but it was something I never allowed on stage or at the studio. My performances suffered for it, never getting to the same point as they did when I completely let loose, but with practice and extreme control I was able to do it. Sometimes though, I needed to let go.

Later, I came down stairs putting on some dangling silver earrings as I walked into the foyer. Aaron was already there, wearing dark jeans and a light blue button-down shirt.

"Hey, ready to go?"

He grinned at me before grabbing a sports jacket and heading to the door. "Let's go."

I grabbed my leather half jacket and followed him out to the car that was waiting in the driveway. My silver heels clicked across the driveway with each of my practiced steps as Aaron bounced by the car, already impatient.

I slid into the car, smoothing my smoky grey cocktail dress that had a heart shaped bodice and empire waist, and then flaring at the hips to layered tiers ending at mid thigh.

Aaron got into the back with me before giving George, the driver, the address of the party. The entire time Aaron babbled about all the different friends of his that would be there.

Finally, after I felt that my nodding and 'mmhmm-ing' was going to be noticed by him, we pulled up in front of a large house that had a handful of teens hanging out in the front yard. The music was loud enough I could hear it from in the car.

"Do I really have to go in there?"

Aaron grinned at me, "Yes."

"No escaping over the back fence?"

"Only if you really have to, could be entertaining."

I sighed, "let's go."

I got out of the car, heading to the front door, effortlessly weaving through the mob of drunk people littering the yard. Aaron was right behind me, waving joyfully to the people who called his name.

If the noise outside was loud, it was deafening inside. Remixed pop songs blared from multiple speakers, the center of attention a DJ wearing headphones incorrectly and occasionally screaming at the dancing drunks through a microphone.

Aaron dragged me through the sea of sweaty people bumping and grinding to a tall relatively attractive guy who somehow was managing to talk to a group of seemingly listening college kids.

"Hey mate," yelled Aaron, slapping the man on the back. "killer party, this is me sister, Lizzie."

At least that's what I think he said, I couldn't hear a thing over the music. Gabe, whose name I learned later, turned to me and shook my hand.

I immediately felt the heated looks of the three girls that were standing there. One of them greeted Aaron like they knew him, wrapping her arm through his and shooting me a triumphant look when he grinned at her. I couldn't begrudge the girls too much, I knew I looked gorgeous. Straight natural blond hair styled perfectly, unlike their teased, curled, straightened over processed attempts at 'high fashion' hairstyles. My makeup was artfully applied smoky eyes that made my blue/grey eyes shine while they looked like drowned raccoons. I stood elegantly in my high heels and custom tailored dress while they leaned agaist each other just to keep their balance in clothes just one step above those of prostitutes. Let them glare all they wanted, we all knew who was better. Besides, anyone with half a brain could tell Aaron and I were related. Same eyes, hair, nose. To think we were together was just idiocy.

Ignoring the girls, I turned to Gabe and asked where the drinks were, not wanting to spend anymore time with Aaron's 'friends'. He pointed to a swinging door and I walked briskly to it, waving Aaron's attempt to follow me away.

I walked into the kitchen where there were thankfully less people. The noise was also dampened and I could hear my thoughts again. I looked at the sticky mess that was the drink table where hunch punch, beer, and other liquors were placed next to blue plastic cups. I grimaced as I picked up the plastic, feeling the thin material bow under my fingers. I went over to the fridge and found a container of filtered water there, pouring a glass. I looked around the small kitchen and shook my head mentally at my brothers idea of a ;great party'.

Let me clarify, this boy, Gabe's family, was probably rich by American standards. Their house was probably worth $600,000 and his father probably made that much a year. His parents probably had a beach house, he probably got a expensive new sports car at sixteen, and went to Stanford on Daddy's dime. So understand when I tell you that $600,000 is the small change my father plays with on the stock market for fun. That my manor cost $50 million dollars, and the house expenditures are $300,000 a year; covering the employees pay and any landscaping or maintenance. We own six such 'homes' all over the world. For my sixteenth birthday I had a ball thrown in my honor getting three new sports cars, two beach manors (one in Italy, one in Spain), and a diamond encrusted gown. Oh, and the Queen was there with her family. So understand when I say my brother was really slumming-it with these friends.

I leaned against the counter as I sipped at my water, watching as a few people trickled in and refilled drinks before returning to the crowded living room. I began to run through a new routine I was working on, not noticing anything else around me until I felt a hand wrap around my upper arm. I turned and immediately got a face full of alcohol coated breath from the large guy looming over me. His blotchy red face leered down at me.

"Heys baby. You an' me, we'zzz gonna haf a GREAT time toni'."

I glared at him, trying to take my arm back, but he was sronger. "let me go you drunk, before I make you."

"oh! Kibby go' cwalsss. Gonna go get a cuppa tea?" he started laughing then, his fake accent funny only to him. I began to lower the temperature of my free arm, ready to show him a new meaning of 'blue balls' when a flurry of yellow burst into my line of sight.

""Lance! Thank God I found you, didn't you hear? Robby and Kurt are fighting, right now. Go, go watch the fight!"

'Lance' looked over at my savior before a huge grin broke out on his face and he screamed "FIGHT!" before running out of the room, leaving me with only a few bruises and a dumb look on my face.

"I'm so sorry about that. Lance is really a nice guy, I promise. He's just going through a tough breakup and I kinda got him really drunk on the punch, cause I told him there was no alcohol in it, but there is, like a lot a lot of alcohol, so he's plastered and I'm so sorry he did that to you. I'm Lisa by the way. And that is a gorgeous dress, did you know? I made my dress, but I guess you can tell that. My mom always says I let my inspiration take me away and that it's not always to a flattering place. But I like it a lot, it really fits my personality lately. Yellows my favorite color right now. I think that winter is far to dreary for all the blues, and maroons, and blacks people wear during it. Not that your dress isn't gorgeous. Yours really is, perfect for you I mean. Who made it?"

I blinked. Then, just to be sure I wasn't imagining her, blinked again. Nope, not crazy. There really was a petite Asian girl practically bouncing in front of me. Her bright yellow dress the first thing I noticed. It was a sunflower dress. The skirt bright yellow petals that fell to her knees with a brown belt low on her hips and an A line bodice with brown beads sparkling in random places all over the top. Her emerald green heels really pulled it all together. the most striking thing though, was her hair. It was yellow. Not blonde, or streaked yellow, but pure 'sunflower' yellow. The short pixie cut framed her small face and bright green eye shadow. She was bizarre, but also beautiful in a strange way.

"So? Where'd you get it?"

I mentally shook my head, focusing on her words, "get what?"

She giggled, "Your dress?"

"Oh, Chanel."

Her eyes lit up. "For real? Oh my god, I've always wanted a Chanel dress, but my mom is such a stickler for me to wear only what she or I can make ourselves. But, oh I love Chanel, fashion week last year was amazing! Did you see?"

"Not really, I appreciate the clothes I get, but I can't say I'm big into fashion. It's just expected of me to dress in designer clothes."

"Really? Are you a politician's daughter? Is that why?"

I shrugged, "Something like that."

She laughed again, her smile infectious as I began to grin as well.

She had just started telling me all that she could remember about fashion week, and how she really wished she'd be allowed to go when a tall thin boy around our age walked into the kitchen and practically ran up to her.

"Lisa, thank god I found you."

"Ryan, what's up? You having fun?"

"We need to go. Lance is passed out in the bushes. I can't get him up and he needs to go. Are you good to drive?"

She frowned in concern, "of course, I'll be right there. Try to get him up again and I'll bring the car to the driveway."

She turned to me, smiling apologetically, "I'm so sorry, but I've got to go. It was great meeting you! Hope you have a great night and don't mind my monopolizing your time."

"Don't worry about it…" but she was gone. Sighing I looked around, sipping the last of my water as a particularly fit blond boy walked in. his eyes took me in, a handsome enough grin on his lips as he pointed to himself, then me, then upstairs.

I glanced at his body and the time before decided to follow him from the room. No idea how to be bad? Well, now was as good a time as ever. Maybe this was the distraction, the excitment I needed.

At the very least I could say I had some fun tonight.

Around three in the morning we slowly creeped in the kitchen door, Aaron was drunk and I was partially carrying him into the room. Just as we made our way to the servant stairs by the fridge, a light turned on and we saw our father sitting at the table. His pale features were set and a stern glare was in his eyes.

"Bed, now Aaron." He said lowly. (_think Liam Neason's voice) _

Aaron swayed a little, opening his mouth to speak but I shshed him and pushed him towards the stairs. He glanced back at me, but went to the stairs stubbing up them.

My father turned to me, his hands clasped around a cup of tea that had a layer of frost on it. "I think it is clear to see I am disappointed in you young lady. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Well, I didn't think…"

"That's right, you didn't think did you?"

That stung, I opened my mouth to respond but he had continued on. He had dismissed me, invalidated me in one foul swoop.

"What about your brother? Encouraging him drink and fraternize with god knows who and what if someone were to inform the papers. The actions of you two reflects onto me. I always knew you couldn't understand the status and decorum that comes with our name, but to try to sabotage your brother? I am ashamed." He squeezed the cup until his fingers turned blue, steam coming off the cup in waves until it shattered, shards flying everywhere. A piece of frozen tea flew past my check slicing it. I grabbed my stinging check, tears already gathering in my eyes that I refused to let fall.

He looked shocked at the violence before he closed his eyes running a hand over his face and sighing. He stood up and grabbed a towel from the stove and dipped it under the faucet before coming towards me and pressing it to my face. I couldn't stop the flinch as he touched me, the first tear falling.

With another sigh I was left alone in the kitchen with a cold towel and an empty feeling in my heart.

A/N I've decided to turn this once oneshot into a story. Hopefully it will be well received and not too over the top. I hope you liked it, please R&R.


	3. Burning Up

Hello, welcome to chapter three. Hopefully I'll be able to keep this once a week time line for chapter postings, crossing my fingers now.

Disclaimer: Sky High does not belong to me, no profit is made from this fic, it's only for fun. I own no rights to characters or storyline taken from the Disney movie. Definatly not wanting to piss off Disney, sounds dangerous.

On with the show.

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He was the embodiment of fire, quick to spark and erupt. But like fire, without control and steady foundation is destined for self destruction and burning up. Maybe he would have been fine without me, but I like to think that we saved each other. Saved ourselves from burning up and freezing out.

The light that shown through the gap in the curtains seemed strategically placed to always end up in my eyes without fail. I ran my hand over my eyes, then through my hair. I stretched, feeling my bones crack before I removed my covers, letting out the warmth I'd built all night. I hated mornings, something about the bright light, cold air, and numb limbs just bothered me. I sighed again, then stood and walked to my bathroom.

I splashed my face with cold water before reaching for the towel on the counter, noticing the slight mildew smell. Time to do laundry it seemed. I looked up into the mirror noticing the imprint from my sheets on my cheek which was slightly stubbled. Great, hopefully those would fade soon enough.

I headed back to my room and turned on my radio, Skillet's Monster flooding the room. I pulled the elastic band from around my wrist loosely tying my hair back in the process. What can I say, I'm an attractive guy with the roguish long hair, but it is a bitch to deal with when working out.

I clapped my hands before dropping to my bedroom floor and beginning my morning routine of fifty push ups. At first I felt a strain before I focused on the music and my breathing. Then it was about the burn, the pressure, the rhythm. In the end, about a sense of accomplishment, something I rarely felt.

After that I moved to the pull up bars over my bedroom door. Half way through my pull up set my mom walked up the stairs with a plate in one hand and laundry basket in the other. Her long black hair was fixed in a low ponytail and she was dressed nicely, like she was ready for work.

"It's Saturday," I said, dropping down and grabbing the plate from her hand seeing eggs, bacon, and sausage on the plate.

She sighed, frowning slightly, "I know sweetie, but the UN is calling for the peacekeeper. I'm going to start a load of laundry, will you finish it? Oh, and I'll be sure to be home for dinner."

"I'm working tonight," I said slowly, not apologetic as I made my way into my room and picked up my dirty laundry and handed it to her. "You don't have to worry about me Ma."

She narrowed her eyes at me, probably trying to determine if I was using a tone, yay parents and their tone tyranny. "Ok Warren, I'll see you tonight, maybe we can rent one of those action movies that just came out, how does that sound?"

I glanced at her, small and beautiful like one of those geisha dolls Mrs. Luo had as decoration at the paper lantern. Her mixed heritage was prominent in her almond eyes and flat forehead, her tiny stature contrasting and almost refreshing to the height I gained from my father's people. Even seeing that, I couldn't help but feel resentment towards her like always. Towards her voice, her presence, her very existence. And for that, I hated myself. She didn't deserve it, but it was the truth.

"I will probably come in late, you shouldn't wait up."

I could see the hurt in her eyes, but chose to ignore it. I moved back to my bed, grabbing the plate of breakfast and turning up my music as she moved on to her bedroom.

I had just finished my breakfast when Ma came back to my doorway, now carrying the dirty laundry.

"I've been thinking. You have been working a lot Warren, I'm not sure it is healthy. You're still so young and school starts back tomorrow. I would like you to cut back on hours, school is more important."

"What?" I started, "I need that job, how else am I gonna get my bike?"

She gave me a concerned look, "just a few hours Warren, not the end of the world. Not to mention that I'm still not comfortable with you getting a motorcycle."

I clenched my fist, heating up with each word she said, "What if my boss won't go for it? What if it means I lose my job?"

"It cant hurt to ask..."

"Won't you be late for work?"

She stared at me for a few moments more, a sad look in her eyes, before she nodded and walked away. By the time I was done with my shower, she was already long gone.

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The evening rush was killer tonight. I barely had a moment to think of one order before another was brought in. Tonight I was helping Henry in the kitchen, frying rice and noodles, steaming vegetables, est. this was the kind of work I lived for. No time to talk, to think. It was cathartic, it was necessary in truth.

The second I'd walked in for my shift at two Mrs. Luo had told me that my shift had been cut, that she had gotten a call from my mother. So, yea, it was a good thing I hadn't had time to think yet. But I could feel the rage, the heat and fire boiling under the surface, so I cooked, I cut and I tried my damndest to not think.

It was easy, the second I'd walked into work one look at my coworkers had let them know to leave me alone. Most people that worked here understood to leave me alone. It took only look now, but at first there were some slow learners, those that didn't get that Mrs. Luo was the only one allowed to give me crap at work.

I ignored the worried looks I was getting from the other chiefs as I cut, fried, sautéed. Burning grease was popping on my arms, my fingers gripping the iron handle of the skillet. Normal people would have burns by now, but my ability kept me safe. Normally I'd be more careful not to let anyone see my power, but today I didn't care.

Around eight I got my break, more like Mrs. Luo jabbed her meaty finger at me and yelled at me to go loom in the alley behind the restaurant because I was making her food taste gloomy.

Out in the alley it was cold, a strange difference from the heat inside, and I let out a frustrated breath. I pulled a cigarette out of my pack and snapped my fingers to light it. The first drag burned my throat, the smoke tasted disgusting, the minor relief I felt from the nicotine adding to my self-loathing. Priceless huh? The addict, hating his drug, hating himself. But mostly, I hated my mother who always pretended everything was ok, always worrying, putting pressure on me to pretend with her. And now, going behind my back and calling my boss, like she had when I was younger to my teachers when... when everything went wrong, it was just fucked up. I am so tired of pretending, tired of always trying to hide my anger.

"Hey," called a sweet voice from beside me. I glanced over and saw Amy, Mrs. Luo's niece stepping outside. She leaned against the wall across from me, a concerned look on her face.

"Those will kill you, you know?"

I glanced at her, she was older than me by ten years, the diamond ring on her left hand was glinting in the street light.

"Maybe that's what I'm hoping for," I smiled dimly. "That way I don't have to see the woman I love get married to another man. Which would just break my heart." I finished my dramatic exclamation with a hand to my chest and a pain filled tremble in my voice.

She rolled her eyes, walking to me and snagging my cig right out of my hand and taking a drag. "you don't have a heart Warren Peace," she joked, "just more sarcasm than one human being should ever be cursed with."

I grinned, for real this time. Amy was one of the few people I considered a friend and even though I had had a crush on her since I met her way back when she was my babysitter, I was actually able to feel some happiness for her and her impeding nuptials. It didn't hurt that she was always able to call my bullshit. I never could lie about that bedtime or whether I was aloud to have ice cream before bed.

"Now that's just cruel. What if I was truly in love you, I mean you were the hottest babysitter a kid could ask for."

"What do you mean I was?" Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, " What about now?"

I shrugged, taking another drag, "well you are twenty-six, that does make you kinda ancient."I ducked her slap, smiling brightly.

She smiled, before looking serious again, "so really, what's wrong with you? You've been on edge all day." She grabbed my cig again, throwing it down and stomping it out.

"Hey!"

She ignored me, "I mean you almost bit off Lee's head when he accidently bumped into you earlier. So, what's wrong?"

"Maybe I just don't like him?"

"Why does that sound like a question?"

I stared at her, more like glared, but she held my gaze and raised an eyebrow. No bull-shit, forgot about that.

I sighed, falling down the wall until I was crouched above the foul smelling asphalt. I pulled another cigarette and a match out of my pocket. "I don't want to talk about it."

I struck the match on the side of my shoe and lighting my cig. She looked confused at first, before glaring, "not good enough. Come on Warren, I've known you for years. What's really wrong?"

I looked up at her, how dare she, like I owed her something? This was my business. "What makes you think it's any of your business," I said calmly.

"If you're going to be an ass to the people around you, it is my business."

"But out Amy, let me enjoy my break and buzz off." I turned away and took another drag.

Suddenly my cig was ripped out of my hand for the third time and tossed down the alley. "I'm just trying help, you're as pig headed as…"

I jerked up, interrupting her, "as who? Who were you going to say?"

"I wasn't going to, I…"

"Save it," I ripped off my apron, opened the back door to the kitchen and grabbing my leather jacket from the hook by the door. "I'm leaving," I yelled inside, ignoring Mrs. Luo's screams to come back.

I glared at Amy one last time, "just drop it Amy, and next time stay out of my business."

"No matter what you're angry about it is no reason to jump on Lee's case."

"That man," I near screamed. "Who the fuck does he think he is?" I kicked the metal trash bin next to me. "He is scum."

I then started leaving the alley, I had to get out of here, I could feel the fire on the tips of my fingers, running under my skin. I choked on the flame in my throat and the anger rolling around me in waves. I ran for blocks until I couldnt wait any longer and ducked into the next alley over and exploded.

Flames erupted all around me, licking the bricks and ground around me. Bright flame burst out and then was gone, my breath coming out in pants. Flame was quick to come, but quick to go if not controlled and fed carefully.

I slumped to the ground, exhausted and just empty. Ever since this morning, things had been so infuriating. I glanced around and was pleased to see there was no one around. I reached into my pocket, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from it. I stared at the paper before looking up into the sky. It wasn't worth it, not worth a damn. I then picked myself up and headed home, putting the envelope back in my pocket. The front of it was burned into my mind anyways. Had been all day.

To: Warren Peace

4356 Mable Road

Maxville, CA 91234

From: Robert Peace

Maxville Penitentiary, 789 Howard Mill Road

Maxville, CA 91234

End Chapter

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A/N I hope you liked it, sorry these first chapters haven't had the two of them together, but the next one should have them back at school.

Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed and I'd love to get more, :D

Any questions and suggestions are defiantly encouraged. Let me know of anything any one would like to see happen in this story. Most of the plot has been planned; see first chapter, but anything else is up in the air.

Just for reference, I'm picturing Warren as ¼ Chinese- explaining the restaurant and any mandarin he may speak, making his mother ½ white ½ Chinese. And that he is half Native American- for obvious height/coloring/features of the actor playing him in the movies.

See you next week.


	4. Name Your Price

Disclaimer- I do not own Sky high, never will. This only for fun, not profit.

A/N welcome to Chapter four. I hope you enjoy this chapter, sorry it's late. I just got a little trapped with trying to set up how they'd come to any sort of arrangement. Hopefully you'll like this.

Chapter Four- Name your Price

It was never enough. I never got the love, recognition, or pride I wanted. I told myself that I got over that, that his love was not necessary, that all I needed was to show him I was worthy of him. So I began functioning under the opinion that I was a Frost, and Frosts had a certain code of conduct when it came to life and mine was to be the perfect daughter. To find the social connections that would benefit the family, to always support my brother, to never bring attention to myself, or out shine my brother.

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I glared out at the quad, the bit of grassy shit they called the campus of our glorious floating school. Honestly, the fact that no one noticed a floating school confused the shit out of me, but whatever. I waved passively to the cheerleader girl, some senior whose name I never bothered to remember.

"Hey Lizzie, how's it going?"

I glanced up and saw Gabbie, my… friend I guess. "Hello Gabbie, I'm great, couldn't wait to get back to this hell hole."

She snorted, "yeah tell me about it. But what can you do."

I nodded, waving to a few other people who greeted me. Then I felt two hands cover my eyes.

"Guess who?"

I frowned, hating this immature game of his, but played regardless.

"I don't know… Johnny?"

"Who the hell is Johnny? It's me babe! The Cole-ster."

I grimaced, before putting on a fake smile, "of course it is love. I missed you."

The blond boy stepped in front of me, his blue eyes calculating and the cocky grin on his face pissing me off, but I just kept smiling. After all, he was 'perfect' for me. All I had to sacrifice was a few drunken fucks, like the one at the party over break, and some fake smiles and compliments. Otherwise he left me alone and I left him alone, both of us aware of what our parents expected and willing to play along.

"Man this year is gonna be off the chain." He said, sounding like the idiot he is.

"oh wow, yeah totally. Couldn't agree more." I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"you are so right Cole, I mean I was just tell Lizzie here that we are like going to have such an awesome time this year." Said Gabbie, twirling a piece of her hair around her manicured finger.

I gave her an incredulous look, as if to say, "seriously?" She grinned and winked back.

"Later babes, I got to split. I'll check you at lunch? A'ight." He then grabbed my head and proceeded to crush my lips beneath his cherry flavored ones, his tongue invading my mouth. It was over just as abruptly and before I could even think 'mouth rape' he was gone.

Honestly, cherry chap stick? How pathetic could one guy be? Not to even begin to mention his language, attitude, and general presence. I took a deep breath, reminding myself to calm down, and remember why I put up with him. Ultimately, he was an imbecile. So long as I played Martha Brady to his Fred Flintstone he was happy, and our parents were happy. Meaning one day we'd marry, and him being the idiot he is, I'd have control of our estate, money, est. I'd have the power and the freedom be out from under my father. And just so long as Cole was discreet, he could do whatever he damn well pleased.

It was the plan at least. His parent s wouldn't let him near his inheritance until he proved himself mature enough to handle it, and apparently marrying me would do the trick. We'd both get what we wanted.

I glanced over at Gabbie, raising and eyebrow.

"What? We are like, so totally going to have a great time, now let's go you grumpy bitch."

She then exaggerated a hair flip and cat walked to the front doors of the school; I followed a few steps behind her, unable to not laugh.

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A month had passed and classes were no better than they'd been last year. Honestly, why did I need to take mad science anyways? Why should I learn how to make a freeze ray when I can just freeze the shit with a thought?

Mr. Madula was going on and on about the mechanic structure of some high tech something, I honestly have no clue what. I glanced up from the doodles I'd been drawling in my notebook to see at least half the class in similar states of disinterest. Gabbie was filling her nails, some were tossing notes back and forth, hell even the nerds of the class were reading instead of listening. I heard a faint sound behind me and turned to see Warren Peace, resident trouble child, knocked out on top of his text book.

He looked so stupid, his mouth half open and lopsided, what I swear where snores coming from his mouth and what looked remarkably like drool pooling on his book.

Disgusted I turned back to the front, but not before I saw Aaron Michaels leaning towards Warren's desk. Oh no.

"AAARRRGGG!"

Everyone in the class but me jumped at the loud scream of Peace, as he leapt up and began pulling at his shirt where it looked like someone had dumped an entire bucket of water. After a moment everyone began laughing, Madula yelling for silence and failing to get it.

I chuckled lightly, looking at Peace and meeting his death glare with a smirk of my own.

"You alright there Hothead? You're looking a little wet," I gestured to the side of my mouth, his hand going to his own mouth and feeling the drool there. His face turned an interesting shade of red and I was waiting for what he'd do next when the bell rang, releasing us from hell.

He was one of the first out of the door, waves of heat rising off of him. I smirked, gathering my bags and heading towards Hero Ethics, my second period class.

"One moment please Ms. Frost."

I turned to see Mr. Madula standing by his desk, waiting for me.

I waited until everyone else had left the room before going over, "Yes sir?"

"I must say, you must be very confident in your ability to pass this class if you have the free time to come up with petty pranks to play during lectures."

I suppose I did have the shame to look embarrassed, but honestly, it's not like I was the only one bored shitless in this class.

"I wanted to give you this," He handed me a packet. "I know I said I'd give back tests tomorrow, but I felt that work like this should not be made to wait."

I looked down, my heart dropping to my stomach, "This can't be right."

"Oh it is Ms. Frost. Maybe if you spent as many brain cells on your studying as you do your goofing around, the results would be better."

"No," I said, the bright red F glaring up at me. "You don't understand, I can't have an F, my father will kill me."

"You should have thought about that when you and Ms. Mitchell were passing notes just last week."

"Please sir, isn't there anything that I can do?" I was going to die, end of story. Daughter of Ice Man, found frozen in local lake, Father confesses it was because she was an embarrassment to his name; society accepts this as an expectable reason and drop all charges.

I looked up, realizing Mr. Madula had been speaking, "I'm sorry, what?"

He sighed, "Ms. Frost I'd be willing to drop this test grade if I see real improvement for the rest of the school year. No more goofing around in class and nothing short of B+ work turned in to me. Understood? I'd also consider getting yourself a tutor if I were you."

I nodded, "Yes sir, thank you, I'll do just that." I paused, "um… but who would I get to tutor me?" honestly, I knew maybe a hand full of students at this school, none of which would make good tutors.

"Well, there's Gwen Grayson, she's already well into college level Mad Science as my student assistant."

I shook my head; no way would the queen bee keep her mouth shut about me needing tutoring. I needed someone who would have no reason to talk, someone not popular, not too unpopular they'd use this as a crutch to gain notoriety.

"Richard Parr." Can't keep anything a secret, whole school knew his best friend had cheated on his girlfriend before the friend had even told two people. That didn't end well.

"Liam Colwell" too cool for school, he'd never willingly help me, or keep it a secret.

The next four names were like this until, "And of course there's Warren Peace. Top grades in this class."

I blinked at him, did he just say… no way. "Are you sure?"

He looked at me funny, "of course I am Ms. Frost, now I do believe you need to hurry on to your next class, you'll be late."

"Right," I said, straightening my backpack after shoving the test into it, "thank you Mr. Madula, have a great day."

I walked down hall on auto pilot; I made it just in time for Ethics and continued to just sit there the whole period. Literature wasn't much better, we were reading Macbeth and the words just seemed to jumble up and become blurs.

What was I going to do? I needed a tutor, but the only ones recommended would never work. I glanced at the table off nerds in the cafeteria; they would melt to goo if I even gave them the time of day. I looked at the hipster table, they'd never dream of helping me, being too above it. And gods forbid I ask anyone from my own table, they'd use it against me in a heartbeat.

Despite the general opinion that popular kids are meant to be vapid and dumb, almost all of us are A and B students. Students who use intelligence and popularity to its fullest potential and find anyone not willing to do the same too dumb for association. The vapid part is still true though.

If they found out I needed help to understand something as trivial as tenth grade Mad Science, it'd be over for me.

It wasn't until I'd sat down and silently stared in his direction for at least five minutes that it hit me. Sitting alone at 'his' table was Warren Peace, his nose in some book. This was crazy, but also kind of perfect. Who was he going to tell? As far as I could tell he never even spoke to anybody, just grunted and glared. And even if he did, who would believe the son of a villain?

My mind made up, I began plotting my move. I'd have to act soon if I want to be successful in bringing up my grade, but I also couldn't be seen talking to him. Not to mention he'd probably take some time to convince. That's it; Save the Citizen was today in seventh period. I'd find a way to be one his team for it, and corner him in the locker room after.

Grinning, I began to dig into my salad. Everything was going to be perfect.

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Everything was NOT perfect.

So far three groups had gone, and none of them had included Peace, he was just sitting on the top bench, reading again.

I was beginning to re-strategize; there was only time for one more battle anyways, when Coach Boomer called Warren's name, I immediately thrust my hand up, preying to be picked. Gabbie gave me a strange look, I never volunteered for this class.

"You there, Freeze Girl, you're up."

"What are you doing?" Gabbie said.

"I just figured I'd get my extra ten points for next week's practical. Running the save the citizen drill counts as extra credit for Power Focus you know. Ms. Lance told us that yesterday."

"No shit?" she looked put out. "I wish I'd known that sooner."

"Next time," I said, making my way down to the locker room to change into the protective pads.

Warren was already there, changing into the red pads of our team.

I clutched my hands and took a breath, it was now or never.

"So Warren, I was wondering. If maybe you and I could…"

"I'm sorry," he said, turning to me. "I must be hallucinating, because I could've sworn you were just talking to me."

"Well I was about to..."

"But that's just crazy, right? Because we both know there is absolutely nothing a spoiled brat like you could say to me that I'd be even slightly interested in hearing."

I glared at him, "look here you over-grown monkey, I have something…"

"Listen up Barbie," he turned to the entrance to the gym, "maybe if we win this thing I'd consider giving you the time of day. But for now, just stay out of my way." Then he strode out of the room leaving me to silently fume.

Could he be more of a bastard? Fine, if he wanted to win, we'd win. I shoved on my pads and stormed out into the gym. The citizen was set up over the metal grate, Coach Boomer was sitting on his lifeguard chair and the whole school was watching. I stomped up to Warren's side, oddly disappointed to see he was ignoring me.

Across the wooden floor were Michelle Loral and Terry Anderson. Terry could control the wind and Michelle could… actually I couldn't remember what she could do, something with light maybe?

We stood off against them; me and Michelle, he and Terry.

"Cyclone, hero or villain?" yelled Boomer.

"Hero," Terry called, flashing Warren a nasty smirk that had even me feeling the insult.

"Alright, on my count; Three…two…one!"

And we were off, running full speed towards the mannequin. Quickly I came right in front of Michelle, skidding to a stop. She glared at me, "Well isn't this just great. I get to have my revenge."

I'm not sure if it was the confused look on my face or the fact that I said I honestly didn't remember what she was talking about, but one of the two really pissed her off. Honestly, how on earth was I supposed to remember something as trivial as that? It's not like it had been MY hair that had been frozen and broken off in the midst of battle.

"How could you forget you twig bitch!" she yelled, getting red in the face. She should really watch that temper.

I quickly iced up my entire body until I had a shield of ice around me when I noticed her start to glow. She glared and launched a blast of purple light at me, hitting my shoulder and knocking me down. I gasped in pain as I looked down and saw pale pink skin smoking where she'd hit me, the ice melted. I barely had time to drop to the ground when she launched another blast.

I rolled to my knees and sent a shower of icicles at her. She dodged and sent more blast to me. I dove behind a metal mail box. I couldn't keep this up! My ice wasn't even fazing her with those lasers. I glanced over at Warren, seeing him lit up in flames, but he was also trapped in a cyclone, the flames on his skin flickering pathetically as he clutched at his throat.

It took me a moment, but I realized the issue, too much wind and suction, not enough oxygen for flame.

"Warren!" I yelled, he jerked his head in my direction. "Let's switch, on my count!"

He nodded, getting back up on two feet.

"One, two, three!" we ran to the center and slid into our new positions. I immediately felt an edge, I'm not sure ever Terry knew how much water he had in his cyclones. Grinning I put my hands out and froze the whole thing in seconds, all the way up to his hands where the wind tunnel originated. (think horizontal tornado)

Terry wavered for a moment, before comically falling forward due to the weight attached to his wrists. Right after he fell, I rushed forward and encased him in an ice shell attached to the floor.

I looked up the see Michelle being forced to retreat as Warren sent fire ball after fire ball at her. I stood up straight as the scoreboard counted down.

7...6…5…4…3…2…1!

BEEP

It was over and we'd won. I was so happy I almost jumped up and down, but then I noticed that  
>Warren had already left the gym floor. Frustrated I practically ran to the locker room, pulling at my pads as I went.<p>

He was about to leave the room when I yelled out, "Hey, what the hell?"

He turned and raised an eyebrow at me.

"You said you'd listen to me if we won. Don't tell me you can't keep your word."

"Don't you dare tell me about my word princess," he stalked up to me, trying to intimidate me with his size. It worked, but don't tell him that.

I stood my ground, trying to calm my racing heart. "Well if you're not even going to listen to my simple proposal, I have to assume your word is shit."

"And what proposal would that be?"

I glanced up at him, putting a hand on his chest to push him back some, bad idea. Was it even legal to have a chest that felt that good? I looked at him coolly, mentally applauding my ability to act unaffected.

"I need a tutor or Mad Science and your name came up…"

"No."

"Aren't you even going to hear me out?"

"Don't really feel like listening to your little sob story excuse for bad grades, so no." he then turned around and headed to the door to the boys showers.

"Please? I can pay you." I practically yelled, desperate.

He turned slowly, an inquisitive look on his face. "How much?"

"Twenty dollars a session?"

He turned to leave.

"Thirty?"

He smirked, "You can do better than that."

I sighed, "How much?"

"A hundred."

"Fifty."

"Seventy-five."

"Deal."

"Deal."

He grinned again, walking towards me again. "it's a deal then, seventy-five dollars for each study session."

I glared at him, "and they had better be legitimate, a hour each and if I don't feel like you're really trying to help me deals off."

"Fine by me," he grinned, apparently getting closer.

"And don't you dare tell anyone about this, are we clear?"

"Crystal," he said his face very close to mine. "Is this the part where we seal the deal with a kiss?"

"Agghh…" I exclaimed, pushing him back as he chuckled. "Fuck off you pig." I then tried to walk as calmly and surely as I could the girl's locker room, hoping he wouldn't see my blush.

"I'll see you on Monday then popsicle." He called out.

I ran a hand over my face, what had I just gotten myself into?

Fgwpfgwpfgwpfgwpfgwpfgwpfgwp fgwpfgwp

A/N so what did you think? I hope you like it.

Question, should I keep doing the back and forth of point's of view between her and Warren or just stick to her? Opinions? Thoughts? I would be happy to address any questions anyone has. Please R&R.


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